


Precious Cargo

by bluerose5



Series: Exile AU [4]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Communication, Established Relationship, Exile AU, Exile Scott, Family moments, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mechanic Scott Ryder, Romance, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 03:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerose5/pseuds/bluerose5
Summary: After all that happened with Sara, Scott has the opportunity to spend some time with her and explain a few things. The day only takes a turn for the worse when Reyes approaches Scott, asking him for help on one of his smuggling jobs.Meeting up with Reyes' ex is not exactly what Scott had in mind when he agreed to help.





	Precious Cargo

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is one of the more dialogue heavy additions to this series, but I think I'm happy with how it turned out.
> 
> Not much else to say, other than that I hope you enjoy!

It's about a week since Sara lands at Port before she finally messages Scott.

It's not surprising in the slightest. Both of them are busy people, running around on missions of their own, and it's not as if their first reunion was all sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns. Scott sent her a message immediately the day after, but all it said was "Hope we can make this right." The message itself was vague and awkward, but all Scott could do was wait around and hope for the best.

Today, he finally gets that response.

It happens while he is in the middle of making an upgrade to his sniper rifle. Bits and pieces are scattered all around their tiny table, a coffee cup resting patiently at Scott's elbow, and there is music streaming steadily from his omni-tool. The bright blue display of his favorite visor is activated, and diagnostic information is speeding by his eyes at a blinding pace.

For Scott, this is nothing but another day at the office. Mere child's play.

And Reyes had already left to do his own thing for the day. Apparently there's a smuggling opportunity that needs his immediate attention, but Scott doesn't need to know all of the gritty details. It's fine with him that Reyes needs to keep some things to himself. Knowing every single, insignificant detail about a partner is not only impossible and unrealistic, but it's also a bit too overbearing for Scott's tastes. As long as they share the big stuff with each other, and as long as they do everything within their power to be careful while on the clock, then Scott has no problem with both of them keeping certain things private.

However, Reyes did mention that he might need Scott's help on this one, so sometimes it pays to be extra vigilant.

Nothing could have prepared Scott for that one notification, though.

It pops up while he is applying the final touches to his weapon. Since his visor is currently synched with his omni-tool, the visor alerts him to all messages and notifications that are marked "priority." Sara just so happens to be one of those marked contacts, so Scott startles in his chair when his display starts flashing a dramatic red, causing his hand to slip and fuck up what progress he had made.

Snarling under his breath in frustration, Scott taps the side of his head, fingers clicking against his visor's headset. The display vanishes away, and Scott pulls up his omni-tool's orange interface in its place.

The message is brief, but it serves its purpose. Sara asks if he wants to meet up somewhere, and Scott falters, his fingers poised over the holographic keyboard.

Eventually, he gives in and asks for a location. When she asks where Scott currently is, he instantly evades the question. He simply can't find it within himself to tell her about his and Reyes' home. Perhaps she could one day visit, but it's way too soon and way too invasive for Scott's sanity at this point. In the middle of the chaos and the mayhem, this is the one place that is Scott's safe haven, something that belongs solely to him and Reyes and to their eyes alone.

He's just not ready to give that up, so he waits for Sara to reply, sighing in relief when she sends him a group of coordinates.

Tracking the location into the Badlands, Scott suits up, and he gathers whatever weapons and tech he can carry. He's been on enough excursions to know that the most peaceful moments in the Badlands can transform into a massacre within seconds. Once he has everything secured into place, he gathers some filtered water and heads out.

Of course, since he is travelling on foot, it takes him longer to trek across the landscape, but a little hike has never stopped him before.

When he finally does arrive at the coordinates, it's at the top of a ledge, overlooking a nearby valley. Sara is already there, alone, and she is leaning against her Nomad, staring out into the horizon.

Uncertainly, Scott approaches and noisily clears his throat. Sara spares him a courteous glance, and she shuffles sheepishly, appearing every bit as unbalanced as Scott feels.

"Hey," she greets.

"Hey," Scott says, shifting from one leg to the other. "Listen, about the other day, I'm—"

Her look turns scathing. "Don't."

"But I—"

"Have no reason to apologize," Sara finishes for him. "Especially if you don't truly mean it. I know you better than most, Scott Ryder. You meant every word you said. We both know that."

"Still," Scott grumbles, ashamed, "I could've handled things way better."

"You and me both," Sara admits, flashing him a self-deprecating smile. "I think we've both been through a lot lately, so could we just try the whole reunion thing again?"

Scott chuckles and nods, and that's all it takes for a pair of strong arms to wrap around his armored torso. He returns the hug, and he knows —deep down— that it's a start in the right direction.

When they pull away, Scott joins Sara by the Nomad, whistling appreciatively under his breath.

"Nice ride," Scott says. "I mean, I'm more of a shuttle man myself, but I guess this is pretty impressive too."

"God, you don't know how much it comforts me to know that the Nomad is Scott Ryder-approved. It's like all of life's troubles have suddenly fluttered away," Sara sighs.

Scott smirks at that, ignoring her sarcastic tone. "Well, that's actually the only mark of approval that matters, so..."

"Still as humble as ever, I see." But even Sara can't stop beaming at him, so Scott figures he's doing something right. "I can see why you and Reyes get along so well."

"Been having fun on the missions together?" Scott asks. All he gets is a _look._ One that clearly says, 'What the hell do you think?' Scott hums nervously, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, a blush spreading across his warming cheeks. "Yeah... He tends to have that effect."

"I told him that, if he hurts you, I'll kill him," Sara says, her face suddenly void of all signs of laughter.

Scott chuckles anyways, patting his sister on the shoulder. "Good one, Sis, but you don't really expect me to believe that you gave him 'the talk,' do you? Haha..." When Sara doesn't join in, his laughter dies down, and the blood drains from his face. "Uh, you _are_ joking, right?"

When she doesn't answer, that's answer enough.

"Sara," Scott hisses. "Seriously? I thought we made an agreement about this way back in middle school. No threatening my boyfriends and girlfriends with bodily harm. For most people, that's sort of common sense."

"Good thing we're not most people then," Sara says, "and that agreement was made before you started dating some random smuggler."

_God,_ Scott thinks _, what is she going to do to him if she finds out he's the Charlatan?_

Yeah... Scott tries not to think about that. One step at a time. He and Sara are actually talking now, which is good. They have a lot to discuss, but this is progress.

Scott can work with that.

"So..." Scott drawls, inelegantly changing the subject. "What is it like?"

"What is what like?" Sara questions. She's obviously playing dumb, but she should know —after a lifetime of being one— that the Ryders are a persistent bunch. If this is going to be like pulling teeth, then so be it.

"You know," Scott teases, nudging her in the side. "Being Pathfinder? Is it all glamor and glory, like in the vids?"

"Yeah right," Sara snorts. They're purposefully skirting around the subject of Alec, but that's okay with Scott. No need to force the issue anymore. They now have the time and the opportunities to talk about these things when they're ready, and not a moment before. "It's just one party after the next, you know. Everyone listens to me, and things are peachy."

"You can vent if you need to," Scott tells her, "but I'll be honest with you. It's okay if you _can't_ tell me anything. You owe me nothing. After all, I'm an Exile, and you're the Pathfinder. Your people at the Initiative probably won't even like that we're in contact with each other."

"They'll survive," Sara snaps.

 Scott shrugs. "Just saying, Sis. You have to look out for what's good for your people because that's what they are now.  _Your_ people. You're their 'symbol of hope' now."

"Don't remind me," she sighs. "I hear about it enough."

"Heh, so much for the never-ending parties," Scott says with a snicker. Sara playfully shoves him, smiling nonetheless.

"Well, if there's one thing to say about your home world, Scott, it's that it definitely doesn't lack in entertainment."

"Do I even want to know what you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing..." she says, waving off his concerns. "I mean, what isn't there to like about it? It's not like I received a false S.O.S. signal yesterday and wasted my precious time investigating it. That was _real_ fun."

"Now, why am I having a sense of deja vu?" Scott murmurs to himself before addressing Sara again. "What happened when you got there?"

Sara crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance, extremely unimpressed. "We found two guys that were growing something like weed there. Apparently their UV lights died, so that's such an emergency that they felt obliged to send an emergency distress beacon out!"

Scott cuts her rambling off with a low chortle.

"No shit!" He says, his shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter. "I've met those two idiots in the past month or two. I've done business with them in the past."

Now Sara turns her glare onto him. "Seriously, Scott?"

"Hey!" Scott says, tossing his hands up in surrender, eyes wide. "I was doing serious work out there."

"Uh-huh..."

"Believe it or not, I was," Scott huffs. "After I recovered the Oblivion formula for Dr. Nakomoto, we were trying to find a way to produce drugs from local resources without the devastating effects from before. I encountered those two in the exact same way as you did. I presented myself as a potential buyer, got close enough to their supply, and ran some scans that were sending a live feed to Nakomoto."

"What did he find?" Sara questions slowly, as if she is uncertain of whether she actually wants to know or not.

"Well," Scott chuckles, "They definitely weren't lying."

"You-You've got to be kidding me," Sara says, brows furrowing. Scott shakes his head.

"Nope," he says, playfully popping the 'p.' "Their story checked out. An actual herb with working antibiotic qualities, capable of treating infection and fever. Nakomoto was so thrilled. I managed to fix the guys' UV lamp in exchange for a 'free sample.'"

Scott smirks. "I might've taken more than I was supposed to. Got some seeds and everything for Nakomoto. It did come in handy. We even treated this turian refugee out in the Badlands. I had been at that settlement to repair their satellite uplink, but I knew that Nakomoto wouldn't turn down a new patient, so long as he had protection, of course."

"And you didn't use _any_ of it?" Sara asks, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "At all?"

"Well, I didn't say _that_ ," Scott says. "There was more than enough to go around."

"Only you would smoke the space weed, Scott. Only you," Sara sighs, but it's a sigh of fondness, rather than judgment, so Scott considers that a win.

"It was only the one time," Scott admits in total honesty. "You can't blame a guy for being curious, can you?"

"Yes, Scott, yes, you can."

"It was some quality stuff, I'll give them that," Scott says, reminiscing. That _was_ quite the interesting experience. Hell, that was quite the interesting day.

Sara stares at him, saying nothing.

"What?"

"You're such a dork, Squirt. You're lucky you have your looks working for you," she coos, pinching his cheek. He slaps her hand away, glowering.

"I wish I could say the same for you," Scott taunts. That earns him a solid punch to the shoulder, so Scott grabs at his armor and pouts. "Ow!"

"Oh, hush, you big baby," she sniffs.

A silent pause passes between them, and Scott notices how Sara keeps glancing at him, only to avert her eyes when he tries to make eye contact. It starts to wear away at Scott's nerves, and he fidgets uncontrollably.

"What?" he asks, but she's already shaking her head.

"Nothing."

"Obviously it's something," Scott counters. Sara purses her lips, taking her time to compose her thoughts.

"So you know about me being Pathfinder," she starts, hesitating, "but is there something you want to tell me?" When Scott stares at her in confused silence, she continues on, clearly expecting  _something._ "No new title you wish to tell me about? Nothing at all?"

What is Sara looking for here? Scott doesn't have any title. He never really did, so why would she—

Oh.

_Oh..._

She thinks that he's... yeah, okay.

"Uh, sorry to burst your bubble," Scott says, "but no. Before you ask, no, I'm not the Charlatan."

Her entire demeanor deflates at that, and Scott idly wonders what she would think if she knew that he was sleeping with the man. She probably wouldn't be so quick to relax.

"But you're still Collective," Sara observes, gesturing towards the symbol on his chest. "And, from what I hear, you're someone very high up on that ladder."

"Ha," Scott scoffs. "Not really. I mean, I'm technically not even a member of the Collective. I'm just one of the Charlatan's many associates, but I'm a bit more public about it than others."

"So you're their ally?" Sara asks.

"That's the best way to explain it, so yes."

"And you trust them?"

"More than I trust Sloane, if that's what you're asking," Scott replies. He doesn't know what Sara is expecting to gain from this line of questioning, but if he could ease her concerns regarding Reyes... or, in this case, the Charlatan...

Well, Scott will do all that he can.

"Listen," Scott sighs. "I'll be the first to say that the Charlatan isn't a saint. They're just as involved in this gang war as Sloane is, and they can have some pretty questionable methods."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming on here," Sara says.

"But..." Scott continues. "I wouldn't be allying myself with the Charlatan if I believed that they had no redeeming qualities. They're doing more for the Port and its people at the moment than Sloane is, and that's enough for me."

"If both of them are so imperfect, then why not lead Kadara yourself?"

Of course that would be her first response. Of course she would assume that Scott _wants_ Kadara to function as some sort of utopian society, or that he wants to spearhead the efforts to make it so.

What Sara doesn't realize is that you simply can't recreate an entire culture overnight. As shitty as some of the people on Kadara can be, they do not represent the community as a whole. Many people live for the particular lifestyle that Kadara offers, and a lot of the culture itself was established way before the Exiles arrived, only to waver sometime during the kett occupation. Simply because some things operate differently than they do on the Nexus does not automatically mean that those ways are inferior, or that they need to be destroyed. That's the mistake that many colonizers made in the Milky Way's bloody history, and it's time to move on from that narrow-minded view.

Sara might not ever see it that way, but Sara isn't the one that plans on living on Kadara for her foreseeable future.

"Oh no," Scott says, grimacing at the mere thought. "No, no, no... I'm not a leader, nor do I want to be. Some people simply aren't made for that role, and I'm one of them."

"You won't even consider—?"

"Nope."

Sara huffs. "You don't think it's your duty to help these people?"

"I can't take responsibility for every life on this planet," Scott reasons. "It's not my job to do so, but I _am_ doing what I think is best for our future.

"Sloane might have had good intentions when the uprising was in its earlier stages, but good intentions can only excuse so much. What it doesn't excuse is her abusing her power by assaulting civilians who can't pay her 'protection fees,' and it doesn't excuse how she gives the everyday angara little say in how things are done on  _their_ planet. Or, better yet, let's talk about how there is solid proof about her using Oblivion to make addicts out of Kadara's citizens. Because that's just  _so_ noble of her."

"And the Charlatan is really the better choice here?" Sara questions, sounding skeptical about the entire ordeal, not that Scott can necessarily blame her either.

"To me, they're the lesser of two evils. While Sloane only concerns herself with the Outcasts' wellbeing, the Charlatan is actually taking action with the people. Even though Nakomoto once worked with the Outcasts, guess who funds the majority of his work and research. Guess who helps keep that clinic running. Guess who heard about the Slums' food shortage and decided to run a soup kitchen there."

"They're probably only doing that to get in the people's good graces," Sara argues. "Gaining popularity and wanting change are two completely different things."

"But that's still operating on the thought that either of us knows the Charlatan's intentions or their thoughts," Scott says. "I doubt anyone but the Charlatan themselves will ever know the whole truth, but you can't deny the fact that they're getting stuff done that Sloane can care less about."

Sara falls silent then, her expression morphing into something more contemplative. She watches the clouds roll by in the sky, but she's not giving anything away. Not yet, at least.

She thinks on it some more, and then some more. Eventually, she speaks.

"Okay, Scott. I can see that you're obviously passionate about this, but I'm still the Pathfinder here. I can't promise you outright that I'll ally with anyone specifically, but I _can_ consider what you said to me," Sara explains, but that's not a 'no' by any means.

"That's all that I can ask for," Scott whispers.

"All I can promise is that, whatever decision I do make, it has to be for the good of the Initiative. I hope that we both remember that when the time comes."

"Yeah," Scott says, "I hope we do too."

*****

The ride back to Port is an interesting one. It's as if the mood shifts from one environment into the next. Scott and Sara spend quite some time together, but Sara is the one who offers to take him back into Port. Scott doesn't really want to impose, but he can't help but to drool over the thought of getting his hands on a vehicle like the Nomad.

Spacecrafts are usually more Scott's speed, but he can be flexible when the need arises. And no one can deny that the Nomad is a beauty to be reckoned with.

It's only when Reyes reaches Scott through his omni-tool, asking him to meet him at Tartarus, does Sara's face sour. Scott narrows his eyes at her, pointing at her accusingly.

"Behave," Scott warns, to which she scoffs, unintimidated.

"When do I ever?" she asks.

"Come on, Sis, Reyes... well, he's special," Scott says. God, when did he turn into such a walking cliche? Not that it makes his statement any less true, mind you, but it's still so weird.

"Uh-huh... is this like how that one quarian on his Pilgrimage was 'special'?"

"Well, he was to me," Scott says defensively. "My feelings were valid then, just as they are now. Things simply didn't work out back then. People change, and I'm older now, presumably wiser—"

"Debatable," Sara jokes, earning an eye roll for her lackluster effort.

"And I'm deeply, madly in love with Reyes Vidal," Scott finishes. "Look, I'm not asking you to suck the guy's dick because that's more my job."

"Oh my God, you're so fucking crude," Sara snaps. "Can you not?! I absolutely do _not_ want to think about my own brother like that!"

Scott merely smirks in return. "All that I'm asking is that you support the fact that Reyes is who I want in my life. Whether it will last, I can't tell you for certain, but I plan on working my ass off to make sure it does."

"Well, I have to admire your determination."

"Us Ryders are a stubborn bunch."

"You can say that again," Sara says, tapping her fingers against the controls, Kadara Port rolling steadily into sight. "Okay, I'll _try_ to be more understanding about it."

"Thank you. That honestly means a lot to me."

Stopping the Nomad by the nearest forward station, Sara waves her hands at Scott, shooing him out of her vehicle. He jumps out, and she follows, cutting the engine. 

"It's nothing. Now, you go talk to your boyfriend while I run inventory and resupply. Let me know if you need help. I can call in some of my squad if need be."

"I'll be in contact," Scott says, trailing along. He disables the Warden's security systems easily enough, clicking his tongue at their rudimentary setup in distaste. Without much delay, Scott manages to sneak into the Slums.

He makes his way towards Tartarus, where Reyes is already waiting for him at the entrance, whisking him away upstairs with little greeting.

When he has them sealed away from wandering eyes, the doors sliding firmly into place behind them, Reyes turns to Scott with a disgruntled expression. As soon as Scott opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, Reyes beats him to the punch.

"I might need your help with acquiring some cargo," Reyes explains with stiff shoulders and clenched teeth. Scott observes him for a moment, wondering what the catch is.

"Okay... you almost never need my help with something like this, so what went wrong?"

"Zia might've had a hand in lifting the cargo I was after," Reyes grumbles, pursing his lips. "I intend on getting it back."

"Let me guess," Scott sighs. "She got your middleman drunk again, didn't she?"

Reyes' sheepish expression says it all.

"Yeah, it never fails," he chuckles.

"Be that as it may," Scott says, "the real question that remains is what do I get out of this?"

"My undying love," Reyes says lightly, but he's foolish if he thinks Scott is going to settle with that.

Scott crosses his arms over his chest, levelling Reyes with an unamused look.

"Oh, is that it?" Scott asks, making sure to emphasize the dissatisfied note to his voice. Reyes scowls, pouting.

"Name your price," he huffs, matching Scott's defensive stance.

"We split the profits fifty-fifty," Scott says, trying his best to sound assertive, rather than questioning. If Reyes senses the tiny bit of weakness, he will be on it within the blink of an eye.

Reyes snorts at Scott's demand in disbelief.

"Sixty-forty," he counters.

"Nuh-uh, no deal," Scott says. Reyes gawks.

"This is technically  _my_ run. It is only reasonable for me to get a higher cut—"

"And this is also your run that you are specifically asking  _me_ for help with. Not to mention the fact that you're dragging your current boyfriend along on a wild goose chase because of shit that your ex did, so I think I'll stick to my final offer."

Reyes mumbles grumpily under his breath, and Scott flashes him a grin.

"You could always ask my sister to help you out. She was telling me not too long ago how she absolutely adores your time together."

"Somehow, I highly doubt that," Reyes replies. "Ugh... fine, fine. We'll split the profits."

"I knew you'd come around." Honestly, Scott expected him to drag his heels a bit more about it, so this is a pleasant surprise.

Some of his thoughts must show on his face because Reyes is definitely judging him right now. "Don't get cocky yet. We still have a job to do."

"Well..." Scott sweeps his arm out with a dramatic flourish, gesturing towards the door. "Lead the way, Your Majesty."

"Nice for you to remember who's in charge," Reyes says, hiding a smirk behind his stoic  mask, but Scott can see through it, as clear as day.

"As if," Scott snorts. "I'll remember that next time I'm making repairs. It would be so tragic for something to happen to that shuttle."

Gaping, Reyes gasps and slaps a hand over his mouth, scandalized. "How dare you even think of doing such a thing to our child?"

With a chuckle, Scott grasps Reyes' shoulder, giving him a not-so-gentle shove towards the door. "Come on. You can yell at me later about considering filicide."

"Oh, I plan on it," Reyes darkly states, but his efforts fall a bit flat, considering how amusement taints his tone.

They move out, and what follows is a brief trip to Kralla's Song, which does gain them some information, courtesy of Umi. Afterwards, they spend more than enough time making their way across the Badlands, only to scour and scan the area at Spirit's Ledge. Once Scott locates the dead drop, they secure the datapad and its navpoint, and they're on the hunt again.

When they arrive at the navpoint, both of them are determinedly looking around before it becomes apparent that there's nothing of value in the building.

Scott and Reyes meet back up on the bottom floor, but Scott's entire body is tense, his eyes darting anxiously around.

Reyes stands in front of an opened crate, his brows furrowing. When he hears Scott approaching, he turns to address him, his tone sounding equal measures of frustrated and astonished.

"It's... empty," he says, confirming all of Scott's suspicions.

Why can't they have  _one_ single day without running into trouble?

"Any chance that this isn't a setup?" Scott asks.

"You mean..." Ah, there it goes. The face of bitter realization. "There was never any cargo."

"Bravo," a new voice says, followed by a figure emerging immediately from the shadows. Seriously, all she is missing is a power-hungry sneer and a maniacal laugh, and she'd be like every sort of villainous cliche out there.

Although, considering the drama king that Scott is dating, he figures that he doesn't have much room to judge.

"I knew you'd figure it out eventually," she continues. Reyes scowls.

"Zia," he greets, sounding every bit as happy about her presence as Scott feels right now.

"You could never resist a big payout," she sneers.

Reyes shrugs unapologetically. "What can I say? I'm a greedy man."

"That's why you don't have any friends." She eyes Scott then, as if remembering his presence for the first time throughout this entire exchange. She smirks. "Well, besides your little sidekick."

Scott scrunches up his nose in distaste, incredulously mouthing the word "sidekick" to himself several times. Surely she's not referring to him. Before he can retort, however, she beats him to it.

"Always the faithful lapdog, that one," she says, as though Scott's not even in the room at this point, once again addressing Reyes with an upturned nose. "I'm surprised you haven't tossed that one aside, Reyes. He must still be of use to you somehow."

Okay, Scott has had it up to here with her bullshit, and Reyes is obviously on the same track, his tone turning blatantly threatening.

"Leave him out of this," he snarls, golden eyes flashing with fire.

Zia takes that as a confirmation of some sort, her smile twisting viciously.

"Hmph," she huffs, eyeing Scott, as if he is no more than an annoying piece of gum on the bottom of her shoe. Scott stares her down, unafraid. "I should've known. Interesting weakness you have there, Reyes."

"Cut the shit!" Reyes snaps, inching forward. "What is this all about?"

Zia proceeds to explain her reasoning, claiming how her and all of the other smugglers on Kadara are tired of Reyes stealing their business. While she and Reyes exchange barbs, Scott shuffles backwards and takes advantage of Reyes' protective stance, firing up the combat and tech settings on his omni-tool.

As soon as he hears Reyes' exasperated "ah, shit," Scott is in action.

The ensuing fight is a tough one. Despite their combined skills, Scott and Reyes are severely outnumbered here, but these are the days when Alec's N7 lessons come in handy. Scott cuts down a path through the smugglers with fire and ice, using his tech to either drain their shields or overload their systems. When the need arises, he goes into stealth mode, enabling his cloak in order to strike his enemies from behind. He is swift and efficient, and Reyes gets more than his own fair share of kills in.

It takes plenty of work, and neither Scott nor Reyes comes out of the fight unscathed. By the time that they are finished, however, both men are victorious. Exhausted, but victorious.

Making his way towards Reyes, Scott maintains a steady pace, clutching at his side with fatigued breaths.

"You okay?" Reyes asks.

"I-I've had worse," Scott pants, wincing. "Think my ribs might be bruised, though."

"Sorry for dragging you into this shit," Reyes says. Scott spots him favoring his left leg, so he levels Reyes with a questioning look. Reyes grimaces, having been caught. "Don't worry. My shields were down for a second, and a bullet grazed me.  The wound is superficial at most."

"Any other injuries?" Scott asks, moving close enough to pat Reyes down for inspection. Reyes indulges the poking and prodding with endless patience, but he eventually steps away.

"I'll be fine, cariño," Reyes says. While he works the adrenaline out of his system, he glances around with a somber gaze. "I knew I wasn't popular, but I never thought the other smugglers would team up against me." He smirks, although it's clear that his heart isn't into it. "Kind of flattering, actually."

Scott is even less amused. "They might try again."

Reyes scoffs. "You worried about me?"

"Reyes..."

"Relax," Reyes whispers, eyes softening. "I know they're coming now. They won't get the jump on me." His eyes scan the room once more, surveying the bodies that litter the floor. "I guess I should clean up this mess. Zia might have been a piece of work, but it feels wrong to leave her out in the open."

"You don't need to explain," Scott says. "I'll just head home, okay?"

"Be careful," Reyes murmurs.

"I will," Scott promises. "See you there."

"Yeah, see you."

*****

By the time that they both make it home, daytime has transitioned into night, light trading itself in for darkness. They both shower and ready themselves for bed, but Scott readily drags Reyes into their tiny kitchen after their evening routine is finished.

Forcing Reyes into one of their shabby chairs, Scott gathers up their first aid kit and sets to work on Reyes' wounds. Using a mixture of disinfectants and medi-gel seems to do the trick for the majority of his injuries, but Scott pays special attention to every patch of skin that he passes. While Reyes half-heartedly complains, Scott finishes up and stores the kit for safe-keeping, kissing Reyes lovingly on plush lips.

Reyes smiles softly against his mouth, his gaze intense, and Scott can't resist melting into his touch.

"Wait here," Scott commands, as if Reyes actually has somewhere to run off to.

Humming lightly to himself, Scott strolls around the kitchen and rummages through their cabinets, pulling out two glasses and a bottle of liquor. When Scott returns, he plops himself down onto Reyes' lap and places the glasses on the table, filling them up with the dark, dark liquid. Reyes takes his glass when offered, swirling it around. One glance at the bottle has Scott chuckling at his incredulous expression.

"Really?" Reyes questions. "Where did you get that?"

"Kian's personal supply," Scott states, his expression smug.

"Great, now he's going to kick your ass for stealing from him," Reyes sighs. "I'll make sure that your funeral is beautiful. It was nice knowing you."

"Kian isn't going to kill me," Scott says.

"You poor, unsuspecting soul," Reyes taunts. The scent of alcohol permeates the air, and Reyes wrinkles his nose. "Remind me again, why rum?"

"Well..." Scott drawls, sipping from his own glass. The sweet burn is delicious on his tongue, but he makes sure to pace himself. Better to savor the moment and the company. "I was in a bit of a rush when I was stealing from our favorite bartender, so you'll have to forgive the lack of whiskey." Scott leans his head against Reyes' shoulder, nuzzling against his jaw. "We're just lucky that I managed to swipe the good stuff."

"True enough," Reyes says, sliding his free hand against the small of Scott's back. He slips his hand underneath Scott's shirt, his caress burning against Scott's sensitive skin.

Scott squirms and shudders. Desire pools in his gut, and he idly wonders if he can get away with blaming his blush on the booze.

Knowing Reyes, probably not.

But Scott doesn't want to focus on his own needs, not tonight. Not when Reyes obviously has something else on his mind.

"Talk to me," Scott murmurs.

Reyes huffs under his breath, taking a long sip of his drink instead of talking.

Luckily for Reyes, Scott can be a patient man when he needs to be. Once Reyes realizes that Scott isn't going to let it drop, he grumbles.

"What do you want me to say?"

"How about we start with whatever you want to say," Scott suggests.

"Yeah, because that's so simple."

"Nah, opening up never is." When Reyes doesn't reply, Scott sighs. "You know you can be vulnerable with me, right? I mean, not that you have to, but you should at least know that it's an option."

Reyes kisses Scott's forehead, lingering.

"I'll keep that in mind," Reyes says.

"And you should know that it's okay to be upset about what happened today," Scott reminds him. Reyes shakes his head, laughing hysterically.

"Zia tried to kill us. I hardly think she deserves my sympathy."

"She did force our hand in the fight, but you obviously cared for her at one point." Scott pauses for a sec. He chews on his lip, wondering if he is doing more harm than good. "All I'm saying is that it's okay if you're not one hundred percent on board with what happened today. We don't have to talk about it anymore, but I wanted you to know that if nothing else."

Silence descends upon them, and Reyes finally finishes his drink, remaining deep in thought. Scott merely stares at his own glass halfway through, and he figures that his buzz is enough for the night. He places his glass on the table, right next to Reyes', and Reyes grasps at his now-empty hand, stroking a tentative thumb over Scott's knuckles. He stares resolutely at them while Scott stares at him.

His thumb starts to trail over each individual finger, but Scott barely notices, enamored.

"What Zia said..." Reyes grumbles, holding back a weary yawn. "I-You know it's not true, right?"

Scott has an inkling of what Reyes is talking about. Then again, Zia did say a lot today. "Can you be more specfic?"

"I'm not with you to use you," Reyes explains.

And, Scott being Scott, he just has to make things awkward during times like this. It never fails.

"Use me all you want," he says flirtatiously, trying to make light of the situation, but —judging by Reyes' glare— it doesn't work as intended. "Okay, right, serious moment. Sorry."

"I don't think you're some tool to be discarded," Reyes continues disgruntledly. "I hope you realize that."

How... sweet? Scott thinks it's simultaneously sad and amusing how Reyes believes that Scott requires reassurance about that. He's still waiting on Scott to have doubts about this, about  _them,_ butReyes is about to be sorely disappointed.

People can call Scott stupid all they want for trusting Reyes, but he couldn't imagine anyone better suited for him, regardless of if there is or not.

"Reyes, sweetheart," Scott sighs, "I'm not going to let something your ex said get me down. Believe it or not, I'm secure enough in myself, and I'm more than confident in the direction that our relationship is heading."

"And what direction is that?"

Well, they say that honesty is key, and Scott loves when his bluntness catches Reyes off guard, so... "Hopefully the long-term one. Preferably the one where we're both happy in the end."

"You're really that serious about me?" Reyes asks, as if this is apparently news to him. The oblivious, self-conscious fool.

"Is it that hard to believe?" Reyes tries to speak, but Scott talks over him. "If yes, then you should know that I am indeed serious about you. I love  _you_ , Reyes Vidal, faults and all."

"Then you have bad taste in men," Reyes drawls. Scott chuckles.

"Considering your taste in women, I don't think you have a right to judge."

"Yes, but I make up for it by dating only the best men," Reyes says, winking at Scott. His thumb eventually settles over one finger in particular, circling the skin carefully, but Scott is much too preoccupied to notice.

"Yeah..." Scott sighs dreamily. "I am pretty amazing, aren't I?"

"Don't let it get to your head," Reyes teases, yet he doesn't deny a word of what Scott says.

That's when Reyes realizes what he is doing.

Wincing, he abruptly withdraws his hand, shooting up from his seat without warning. Scott stumbles clumsily out of his lap and does his best to regain his footing. Once he steadies himself, Scott is about to demand what the hell is going on, but his ribs choose that moment to make their presence known. They complain loudly about all of Scott's jostling movements, so Scott clutches desperately at his side, attempting to keep the piercing agony at bay.

"I-I'm sorry!" Reyes sputters, experiencing an unusual moment of uncertainty. He moves to assist Scott, but Scott waves him off.

"I'm fine," Scott wheezes, bracing his hands on his knees. He calmly holds up a finger. "Give me a second. I'll be okay. Just..." He pants through labored breaths, coughs wracking his frame. "Just need to breathe."

Reyes mumbles angrily to himself, and Scott snickers through the pain.

"You're not an idiot," Scott says, pulling himself up to his full height. He grins at Reyes, taking great care not to strain his side again. "I might not know what spooked you, Rey, but I think that's enough surprises for the night. Let's head to bed, okay?"

Reyes doesn't speak, but he nods. He allows Scott to drag him into their room, remaining in whatever stupor that has him pinned into place. Scott adjusts to their bed, positioning himself in the way that best relieves the pressure on his ribs, and it takes no time at all for Reyes to settle in at his side.

"Good night," Scott yawns, eyes sliding close. "Love you, Rey."

The last thing that he hears before sleep claims him is a fearful yet loving "Love you too, Scott."

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, Reyes had a passing thought about his future with Scott (one that he doesn't even need to act on, mind you), so of course he freaked out. *cue eye roll*
> 
> Also, Zia acts kind of worse here because, in my mind, she always suspected that Scott had a thing for Reyes while they were together. Given Reyes' in-game surprise and his whole "it doesn't feel right to leave her in the open," I think it's safe to say that he didn't expect Zia to go so far as to try and kill him, and he probably didn't feel completely guilt-free about killing her. I wouldn't be surprised if that whole exchange didn't sit right with him. It's another betrayal in his eyes, but it's still unexpected.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading, everyone! <3


End file.
